Ghost of a Rose
by silentmidnightdeath
Summary: "The loneliest people are the kindest, the saddest people smile the brightest, the most damaged people are the wisest..." A people who are seemingly immune to time, and a young woman who is far too old for her youth. A promise, always made at each parting, and yet to be broken. "Promise me..." An enigma to some, and simple to others, some people are simply meant for something more
1. Prologue

"Ghost of a Rose"

Introduction

Under a bright, hot sun, sweat gleaming on skin, creating a golden sheen to tanned flesh, the air carried hints of laughter and the rolling of ocean waves. Calloused hands gripped rough rope as the shoulders strained to draw the heavy weight, though this was done easily, with years of practice. There was general good-natured teasing, and jovial jokes swapped amongst all who worked collaboratively on this task of drawing the heavy net, writhing with fish, from the sea beneath them that swelled and rolled, rocking the flat-bottomed boat that bare feet were firmly planted upon. With a nearly simultaneous grunt, all who had labored on this effort dragged the net onto the deck, and new hands took over as others onboard began to sort through that which the net haulers had brought up from the depths, throwing some undesirable objects back, while others were placed in barrels and hauled away down below. There wasn't just light laughter and relaxed chatter, there was faint music drifting through the air, as some of those who were too old, young, or infirm to aid in the heavy work were playing a merry and jaunty tune to keep the workers spirits up. Every man, woman, and child here had chosen to be here, and though times were lean, all were smiling and in good cheer. At that moment there was a particularly boisterous round of laughter as some of the men caught sight of a familiar figure up in the rigging. The figure grabbed hold of a rope and took off a running start, attempting to swing down and around to land on the deck, but failing miserably and getting tangled up in other ropes, leaving him to hang awkwardly by his ankle as his hands gripped onto that rope for dear life.

"Oy! That idiot bro'er of yours has got himself roped up again!" The middle-aged man who shouted this was quickly met by rounds of laughter from those around him at his turn of phrase.

The person to whom he was appealing, a worker who had been helping haul in the net, just smiled light heartedly and shaded her eyes so she could look at the mess her brother had gotten himself into once more. "Ach, well, you know how those young 'uns are! Always wantin' to copy their elder siblin's." Her words drew up more raucous laughter. Despite the teasing tone, and the sarcastic wording, still she walked her way to the mast and agilely climbed her way up to where the younger lad had gotten himself stuck. "Ho there, little brother!" She laughed merrily as she waved to his stuck figure.

He shot her a look that might've scared off a seagull. "Stop foolin' around and get me down from here!" He demanded, his black as pitch shaggy locks sliding down off of his forehead to shade his eyes, forcing him to shake his head to move them away again, as he refused to release the rope from his grasp. Like most boys of his age, he had hit that awkward gangly phase, where he was all limbs, not to mention he was growing like a weed.

"Ah, not to worry, ya lil' ragamuffin, we'll have you down in a jiffy." She winked at him, grinning broadly all the while as she lightly walked across one of the beams until she could reach the rope he was attached to and the one it was very firmly wrapped around.

Rather than comfort him, however, it seemed to have the opposite effect as he clutched his rope tighter and looked at her with a suspicious light in his eyes. Before, however, he could bring his suspicions to fruition and daylight by voicing them, his sister had already freed his rope from its entanglement and waved to him grinning as he suddenly fell, as if the very floor had dropped out from under him in a gut wrenching plummet. As he was falling, the rope, finding a new momentum with its release and the resuming of his weight, swung far out to the left, far over the railing on the deck, leaving him far out over the ocean. By this point, his shriek had already pierced the air as he clutched tightly to the rope, wide eyed, even as those on deck chuckled at his misfortune. Naturally, the rope could only go so far, being only so long, and he came round in a large arc in a rush, and suddenly the deck was underneath him again. It still being a ten foot drop to the safety of the woody decking, he refused to release his rope. However, it barely even reached the railing this time as it continued its circular momentum, wrapping itself around the mast as it slowed down until he felt safe enough to release it. Tumbling to the decking, he managed to right himself rather quickly, looking around and crossing his arms with a huff and a faint blush as the others around him chuckled and shook their heads, some teasing him good naturedly, others patting his shoulder. Whether in encouragement or sympathy he didn't know.

As if to only rub his nose in his own unaptness, his sister made her way down by making a leap of faith. She jumped out off of the spar, snagging onto the rope that had stopped his own momentum, swinging out and around, coming towards them rapidly. Though she too swung out over the sea for a moment, it was obvious she was in complete and utter control as she landed lightly on the deck next to them, one hand wrapped around the rope as she grinned at him with that dastardly lopsided smirk while her brilliant hazel eyes twinkled. Her wild tumbledown brown curls resettled themselves down her back and shoulders after their little play in the wind. "Ah, don't give me that look, little brother. 'Tis not my fault you tried to do something so difficult."

He huffed again and looked away, tilting his chin up defiantly, clearly pouting. "But you make it look so easy." He countered, cutting her a glare out of the corner of his eyes.

They were interrupted by the soft clump of booted footsteps as a man approached them. He had the same shaggy hair as the boy, though it was more brunette, but his eyes were a blazing shade of emerald green, and they looked upon the scene with amusement. Most would not have pegged him as being any older than in his late twenties or maybe his very early thirties, he was obviously rather young. Despite this, there was nothing but the utmost respect shown to him as he approached. The other men and women previously surrounding them backed up a little, all acknowledging him, some with a head tilt, others going so far as to bow. "Captain."

He had that same crooked little smile as the young woman. "What's going on here you two? Are my children really so incapable of getting along?" He chuckled lightly as he gave the boy a light cuff on the shoulder before mussing up his hair and then reaching over to tweak his daughter's nose. She merely stuck her tongue out in a response. "So, I have a nineteen year old who acts like she's nine and a thirteen year old whose acting like he's four."

The boy immediately stiffened up, looking up at the slightly older man in surprise. "I-I am not! I am being perfectly mature, unlike my sister!" He argued, uncrossing his arms and putting his hands on his hips, adopting a defensive and scolding stance, looking like many a scorned wife about to get on her husband about his latent problems.

"Oh, come off it Andraste." She said light heartedly, twirling away gracefully, only sparing a single glance for him over her shoulder as she spun away. She came to a stop next to the few musicians, all of whom had stopped playing so as to better observe the usual mischief that came to be whenever the two siblings were together. Inevitably one or the other did something worth watching, and when the two of them argued, it was the best sport for gambling on in the ship as to who would win.

Their father, the captain, just chuckled at his children. They were so full of life, and a bit of good natured disagreement was only natural, and they got on quite well really. Just playful teasing and what not, nothing worth being worried over, that was for certain. Leaving the two to their little spat, he smiled lightly as he walked away, back towards the helm. His smile would have been wider if not for the news he had received. He and his folk were on their way back into port anyways, but the message he had gotten was urgent and demanded that he change his course, taking on an even longer journey. All it took was a single gesture and his daughter was by his side, her brother knowing to back off for such a serious matter. Already the elder members of those under his care were gathered near the wheel, some standing silently, others murmuring quietly to one another. He gave his daughter a reassuring pat before joining them, with her standing strong by his side.

"Captain." Was the quiet greeting he received from those present, who all acknowledged his daughter with just as much respect. "Mythera." It wasn't because of the fact she was his daughter, it was because of the things she had done for them in the past. She may only have been nineteen, but she had lived a long and full life already. He only wished he could've taken better care of her, but he was proud of the woman she had become.

"So, what are we going to do about this, Darzule?" One of the oldest people onboard addressed, his large beard snowy white, and his bright and lively brown eyes nearly hidden behind the wrinkles of laugh lines. The elder leaned on a stick, observing them quietly.

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his dark brown hair, causing it only to become messier from its natural shaggy state. "We can't just ignore it. The Grey Grandfather has been a good friend to our people, and he is not asking for much. My only fear is that those back home will hear of what we have done and doubt us."

"A reasonable fear." A different man spoke. He towered over them all, with a deep baritone voice and the strength of an ox. He was in fact the first mate, second in command, overruled only by Darzule, and, on those occasions in which it was necessary or he allowed it, his captain's daughter. "But it is as you have said. Who are we to deny the Grey Grandfather what he has asked after so many years of friendship?"

Darzule nodded his head, turning to look out to see, his arms crossed in thought, his normally twinkling emerald eyes chilled by his deep mental inquiry. "What say you, Mythera?" He asked his steadfast yet flighty daughter, curious as to hear what she had to say about all this. She knew what was going on; she had been there when he opened the letter and had in fact read it over his shoulder. He trusted her judgment, and so did all the rest here on this ship.

The wisest of the youngsters quietly tilted her head back to stare up into the clear blue sky, unbothered by the sea wind that suddenly picked up and played with her brunette locks, twisting her ringlet curls all over, causing some of the beads in her hair to tinkle as they were knocked together. "We should go. I see no reason why not. And if there are those who are more concerned as to the thoughts of the rest of our kin then…" She brought her seemingly ancient hazel eyes down on them all, gazing at them with a calm determination. "I shall go alone; set me ashore and I shall make my way on foot to where the Grey Grandfather has requested us. It would not be the first time I had answered to him and to the call of the winds that rouse the fires in my heart. The rest of you can return and speak to our kin, and thus if I have acted wrongly, let me alone stand accused for it. Blame it on my youth if you will."

They all stood silent, in thought, for many moments, before the great bearing man spoke up, his gruff voice cutting through the tense air like a sharp blade as he set his hand on her shoulder. "It will not be I who abandons you. You are right in that this should be our course of action. I do not dare speak for others, but I shall follow you, you have never led us astray before."

The eldest of them, shook his head, his white beard wagging. "I do not doubt the lady's leadership, nor that she is just in her course of actions, but I do fear as to what that treacherous serpent's actions will be if you are away too long, Darzule. Some things are simply more important than old friends, you know that."

Darzule sighed heavily once again. Here, yet again, he was handing the burden of answering to the Grey Grandfather's call to his daughter. "Yes, I know Yzni. Mythera….my child, forgive me for once more placing such a heavy weight on your young shoulders." He said slowly, sighing as he sets his hands on her shoulders, displacing the other man's. A small smile crept its way onto his face, and faint laugh lines crinkled the corners of his eyes as he gazed into hers. "My, look how old your eyes have become! Soon you shall be older than me and this old man combined! What then shall I do? What joys and sorrows will I see when I look into my beloved daughters eyes?"

She was tempted to shake her head at him, but refrained, gazing back at him, with her ancient eyes in her young face, before her lips split apart in a light hearted grin and her eyes twinkled at him, and there was his youthful daughter back again. "Yes, and then I shall be a veritable old crone!" Her voice held the hint of a laugh, ringing out merrily. "Whatever joys and sorrows the world has to offer me, to teach me the ways of those of us who are still young enough to learn!" She reached up and removed his hands from her shoulders, holding them gently in her own for just a few moments. "Just one thing."

"Oh?" He inquires curiously, though he already knows what is coming, as did anyone who had ever watched the father and daughter part.

"Promise me this." She looked at him with a face of seriousness, yet still that light remained in her eyes. "Whenever you see a white rose, remember me."

Darzule lightly tucked a piece of his child's hair behind her ear. "How could I not my dear? I promise." He smiled at her, watching as she slowly pulled away from him, turning away and taking those first few steps on her journey. He gave her hand one last squeeze before it slipped out his grasp, as she gracefully made her way back out onto the main deck, and then, he knew, to down below to her quarters to gather what few belongings she had and some other necessaries, like rations. And once they had put into shore, she would be gone like a song on the breeze. He sighed softly as he dropped his hand back to his side.

Yzni patted his shoulder comfortingly. "She has all the grace and wisdom of her mother, and all the strength and the open heart of her father. She'll be just fine, laddie buck." The old man smiled lightly as he too watched her go. "You make the same promise with her that you used to with her mother. Isn't that from a lullaby she used to sing Mythera when she was but a babe?"

"Yes. I wonder what she would say if she could see her daughter now…. I have a feeling she'd be just as proud as I am." His voice slowly trailed off for a moment, before he shook himself. "Come along, Yzni, we need to get this ship pointed towards the land so we can drop off our youthful travelers to their adventures and then head home." For a moment, he heard a voice that he hadn't truly heard in over fifteen years.

"_Promise me, when you see a white rose, you'll think of me. I love you so. I'll be here waiting for you to come home to me."_

**Hello my friends~! It is a pleasure to be meeting you! I know for those of you who are waiting for updates on my other LOTR story this is frustrating, and I'm truly sorry about that. However, I just couldn't resist the call of this. I'd been wanting to write a story with these characters for soooooo long, and then I found this song, and I swear I am obsessed. **

**Anyways, thank you all very much for reading this! Please feel free to leave a comment/review! I enjoy receiving criticism, it helps me to better my writing so I can give you guys even awesomer stories! See you soon!**


	2. Of beginnings

"The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began..." - JRR Tokien

Of Beginnings

It was only natural that her brother would find out about her little jaunt. Nonetheless, that did not make his expected pestering any the less annoying.

"Why can't I come along?" He demanded, sitting on her floor with his legs crossed and his hands braced on them as he leaned forward. "You always get to go! I never get to do anything fun! Nobody respects me like they do you!"

She sighed heavily as she finished her packing. She had already retrieved rations from the kitchen; they had been left in the care of her traveling companion, the large ox-ish man, and she was now working on clearing out what few belongings she had brought with her into a rucksack. With a frown, she kneeled down so that she was on his level, having set her bag down in her hammock for a moment while she confronted him. Setting her hands on his shoulders, she gazed into his stunningly honey colored eyes. "Then this is your opportunity to do so. While I'm gone, people will expect you to step up and start taking on some of my duties. This is your chance to earn their respect. You say you want this chance? Then take it. You'll earn more favor by staying here than hiking halfway across the world with me." She told him seriously, releasing him from her grip but not her gaze as she straightened up.

Slowly, he looked away, breaking their eye contact. "Fine. I'll stay." He muttered, seemingly displeased at being convinced to something contrary to what he had originally wanted. Really, he was just concerned about his sister, not that he would be much help. Still, he was young yet and he turned back to look at her, a new light in his eyes, eager. "Do you really think that they'll start to respect me?"

Mythera shook her head and laughed softly as she turned her back on him and finished packing away her meager things. A few changes of clothes, a couple of trinkets with nothing more than sentimental value, a small coin purse, and that was all. "Oh, aye, I'm sure that they will… **if** and only if, you take over for me while I'm gone. Can you do that for me?"

He nodded his head eagerly as he leaned so far forward he over balanced a little. She was just glad to see a smile back on his face and to have some peace from his badgering. He leapt up and danced a little jig before assisting her in collecting her traveling companion and their rations, carrying them up onto deck with her.

She set down the packages she was carrying and her rucksack, and turned to face him. "Andraste, you need to promise me something."

The boy looked up to his older sister with wide eyes and nodded his head. "Of course, anything."

She smiled lightly. "Don't agree to make promises to others if you don't even know what they're going to ask." She chided him gently, before reaching over to brush his bangs away from his wide young doe eyes. "Promise me, you'll think of me whenever you see a white rose."

Andraste nodded, before furrowing his brow in confusion and curiosity. "Why a white rose? Why not a more colorful flower, like those purple ones you're so fond of?" He asked, tilting his head slightly as he thought.

"Well, the white rose is the ghost of all roses so to speak; pale, lovely white, the most beautiful of all and yet so often overlooked. But really, the reason why, is that's the promise that mother and father always made, as well as me and father too. You're old enough to be a part of it now. It was before your time, but mother always used to sing me the most wonderful lullaby about white roses." She explained, knowing that he wouldn't know or remember. He wasn't even born when her mother passed away, leaving her and her father alone. They had always been tight knit, and that loss had only drawn them closer, and once he joined them, Andraste had become part of their warm family easily.

Pretending to understand, the boy just beginning his teen years nodded accordingly. The only part he truly understood was the mention of her mother and their promises. He knew that these things were important to her. "I promise. You'll be my ghost of a rose." He said, his honey colored eyes darkening with his serious expression.

The brunette young woman smiled lightly. "Good boy. Now smile for me." She reached out and ruffled his hair as her traveling companion approached them.

"Are you ready?" He inquired in his rich, deep gruff voice. He truly was a great giant of a man, she thought to herself as she had to crane her neck a bit to look into his eyes. He was certainly a great deal taller than her meager five foot four inches. Shaking off her distracting thoughts, she nodded her head confidently.

With a grin she reached up to pat the man's shoulder. "Of course I am. Are you?"

The man nodded silently. "Name's Feldar, by the way." He finally introduced himself to the young woman, though she had already known who he was – her father had given her his name after he vouched for her and agreed to accompany her.

"A pleasure to meet you, my friend." She gave him her bright, cheeky little lopsided grin, the corners of her eyes crinkling up slightly in amusement. Mythera was truly looking forward to this journey and the opportunity to make herself more familiar with her traveling companion. "Let us go speak to Papa then, and be on our merry way."

Feldar nodded his head, his tall frame easily making its way across the deck to the helm where her father was standing. He turned his attention towards them. "Ah, ready to go are you? We will reach the point shortly and you will disembark there. I assume you've already received both your map and your rations?" He received dual nods from both of them in answer. "Very good then." He smiled lightly, before his expression lit up in remembrance. "Oh! Here, you should take this as well. Though Grey Grandfather knows you on sight my daughter, I would prefer it if we could guarantee that the hosts of this event will not turn you away." He pulled from his coat pocket a letter, neatly folded but slightly creased and worn from a great deal of handling. Darzule handed this letter to his daughter quietly, watching as she took it without a word and flashed him a small, brilliant smile as she tucked it safely away into her belt pouch.

"Never fear, Papa. I'll be back before you know it. And I'll make sure to bring my friend here back in one piece to." She joked lightly. The young lady found partings were made easier if she made light of them and relieved the tensions of those around her.

Even the great bear of a man smiled at her bravery. Well, perhaps it wasn't what most would define as bravery, but it was hard not to acknowledge her as doing something for others. She was an interesting slip of a woman. Then again, that wasn't a very accurate description of her either. She was the definition of a mature woman. Feldar chuckled softly, nodding his head. "And I'll bring this little insolent whelp home safe and sound, no doubt after much mischief and troubles of my own with her as the cause."

This caused everyone with hearing range to laugh, before the man perched up on the mast called out the water had grown shallow and the point was just ahead. This made both of them return to where they had each left their bags. She slung her rucksack upon her shoulders easily, before taking on an additional pack, filled with other necessities. Each of them was carrying two bags, they had tried to be as prepared as possible for their travels. Once the ship was anchored as close as could be to the shore - due to her relatively flat keel this was easy, leaving them only about fifty feet from the water's edge - she and her companion climbed down over the side, standing in the waist deep water as they waded to shore.

Unbothered by the water, she found herself reminded of a song she had often heard aboard the ship, and without a fear began to sing it out loudly. It brought a smile to her face as she heard people on the boat pick it up as well. She figured it was a fitting song, about a treacherous water spirit that led sailors to their death. "And all the waves will bow down to the Loreley!"* She sung it out til the end, though they had since reached the shore and left the boat behind them.

On the ship, the captain watched them go, smiling at the tune. It was certainly fitting, though his eldest child was nearly a perfect fit for the description of the water spirit. Eventually, he lost sight of them, and he had to turn his ship homeward bound once more. It pained him to not be able to see her off properly, or better yet, go with her, but he knew she was in good hands. She had proven herself many times over, but as her father, he always fretted over her. He still had Andraste to look after, and with his position, he knew he had no choice in the matter. Not for the first time, he hated his position as chieftain - it was so restricting. Always he had to watch from the sidelines as she conquered the threats that came against her people, as he had in his youth. Though maybe, he conquered them now in a different way. He chuckled as a verse from the song suddenly lingered in his mind. _"Though the song of Loreley charms the moon right from the sky, she will get inside your mind, lovely Loreley."*_ His daughter certainly could be charming, and she often was in his thoughts. He supposed that was all he could do for now - pray to the Elder Spirits to watch over his daughter and guide her truly in her journey.

*** = Both pieces, and the quote from the top, are from the song Loreley, by Blackmore's Night.**

**I'm putting my disclaimer down here, since I only own my characters, and nothing else. I felt like it wasn't really necessary because last chapter was strictly mine.**

**Hello again! I have at last retrieved my chapter and will now continue our wonderful journey together! I'm very excited for my many ideas for this story. I certainly hope it will all work out as I have planned! Don't be afraid to R&R, tell me what you think. The more reviews, the more motivation for me to write!**


	3. Of Journeys

"Wild were the winds that came, in the thunder and the rain, nothing ever could contain the rising of the storm..." – Blackmore's Night

Of Journeys

Currently, the duo was traipsing through a thick patch of underbrush under a canopy of trees. The pair had been traveling for nearly a fortnight now – thankfully the journey had been uneventful so far, for which they were both grateful. Unfortunately, their good fortune wouldn't last much longer, though neither of them knew it. Mythera remained in good spirits the entire time they traveled, often humming or even going so far as to burst out in song – though she kept it relatively quiet so as to not draw too much attention to herself. Feldar was fairly good company, she discovered, though he was quiet often, when he did speak, he could be quite amusing. Not only that, but that he was a far better cook than herself. She had never been much of a one for the homemaking arts, and while she could cobble together edible food, his was some of the best food she'd ever had while traveling. Since he was designated the task of cooking, the little brunette made it her duty to hunt for the fresh meat they used to supplement their rations. Often, all she caught was rabbit, and occasionally she snagged a squirrel or two. For the most part, she avoided larger game, like deer, since between the two of them, there was no need for so much meat. Each night the made camp a little before sunset, giving themselves time to set up before the sun vanished from the world and was replaced by starry skies. Most nights they didn't bother posting a watch, the calmness of the woods about them told them there was no danger about.

Feldar was working on getting a fire going, while she went to see if she could get anything to supplement their rations. Not just game – even wild vegetables were preferable to the hard bread and salted meat in their packs. Hiding in the thick underbrush that had caused them so much trouble while traveling, she crouched low to the ground as she carefully made her way forward, creeping slowly, and to her ears, nearly silently. She had thought she had heard something – she was hoping it was a rabbit, but it sounded far larger than that. What she found was not nearly so pleasing. She heard them and smelt them before she caught sight of them. She quickly backtracked, but was not watching where she stepped. The brunette froze as a stick crunched underfoot, and she heard the ruckus before her grow louder. Choosing speed over stealth, she whirled and fled, her slender legs allowing her to flee back to camp quickly. She ended up having to leap over the newly laid fire, unable to bring herself to a proper halt right away. "We need to go, now!" She told him urgently.

Knowing that such a cause of haste was not something to be questioned, Feldar assisted her in rapidly packing back up – thankfully they had not had much out. Realizing they had no time to truly snuff the fire, they threw dirt over it and fled into the night. Mythera lead him deeper into the woods, where the hills grew steep as they met up with the feet of the mountains. She was quick to scramble up a well leafed oak, crouching low to a branch and nearly holding her breath in anxiety. The larger man had a harder time managing such a feat – he settled instead for climbing on top of a discarded boulder from some long forgotten landslide and laying there, watching warily.

They sat there in tense silence for what felt like hours upon end. However, it seemed that the creatures had somehow passed them by – whether because they had no tracked them, or whether they were simply too well hidden, neither knew, and nor did they particularly care, just glad to be safe. Feldar slowly made his way to the base of the tree she was perched in. "What shall we do?" He called up to her, keeping his voice low and quiet.

"I think we ought to spend the night up here." She replied softly as she moved lower down in the tree, intending to help him. It was a sturdy old oak, and had thick branches she felt could support his weight.

With her help, the large man managed to scramble into the tree awkwardly, settling down on one of the thicker branches, leaning his back against the trunk and stretching his legs out before him. She moved higher up in the tree, finding where the trunk split into a 'Y' and settled herself into the ledge between the two sides comfortably. They slept uneasily there until the sun peaked over the trees. Then, the pair made their descent back to solid ground, where they shared a wary glance.

"The path is dangerous." The big man rumbled as he pulled out their map and spread it across a fallen tree so he could look at it better. "We must hurry to our destination."

She hummed in agreement as she peered at the map, lightly tapping it with her finger. "I think we are about here." She tried tracing a few different paths with her finger along the map. They were approximately halfway to their destination. The main issue for the pair of them was that they were on the wrong side of the dell – they had to finish crossing through the Weather Hills, ford the river Hoarwell, and then cut through the Trollshaws, before coming into the valley and then to the city where the Grey Grandfather had said to meet him. It was a dangerous path –the Trollshaws were named so for a reason, and the Weather Hills weren't exactly friendly either, as they had just discovered. Their ship had let them off in the Ice Bay. They were currently traveling through the lands of Arnor – the ancient kingdom of Angmar was to the north.

Feldar nodded his head, his shaggy hair having fallen out of its queue during their little misadventure. "I think we are best suited to simply head straight for the mountains and into the valley." He traced the path on the map.

Mythera was quick to agree – best to keep things simple so they didn't get lost – she may have been well versed in the wild, but her sense of direction was only average. The two gypsies were quick to resume their travel, however, rather than fighting their way through the wilds, they tried instead to simply slip by. This method worked relatively well. The pair still ended up spending a few nights in the trees, due to the sheer number of orcs in the area. Eventually, they made it to the river Hoarwell. The crossing was a bit treacherous – as summer changed to fall, the rains had swollen the river. Still, they managed well enough. Both were sailors for years of their life – they were strong swimmers should such a skill be necessary. Thankfully, by putting their heads together they came up with a much simpler solution – by stretching a rope across the river, the brunette woman could scurry across and secure another three ropes so her larger companion could make his way across. Then, she darted back across and threw all but one of the ropes to him, before making her way to where several rocks protruded from the river. With Feldar holding onto one end of the rope, and her hands firmly secured around the other after tying it around her waist, she leapt from rock to slippery rock until she reached the opposite shore.

Her agility and balance had come from years of disciplined training, though not for what one might guess. While she was more than capable of fending for herself, and a decent swordsman and archer, her true passion lay in music. Not playing an instrument – she could manage a simple fife only – but by singing and dancing. The traits learned from those skills had turned out to be applicable to many parts of a more dangerous life. She was quick and light on her feet, and quite flexible. Also, dancing had kept her figure slim – there was not much excess on her, she was nearly all slim, wiry muscle. Years of sailing had also helped harden her – her hands were coated in calluses from hauling the ropes, and her feet were much the same for she preferred to be barefoot. She was able to tolerate the heat well, though she had rarely been tested against the cold.

Mythera's companion was nearly the complete opposite – he was large, towering over her, and well-built with thick layers of sinew and muscle. He was a great warrior, or so she had been told, and preferred a poleax to a sword. His hands too were callused, and they were both tanned by the sun under which they lived. He was not as quick nor light as she, but he could deliver a single blow to stun and down a man. His eyes were sharp as well, and he could think quickly, and their combined wits had proven useful. Each had different strong points, and both were well-natured, leading to a cohesive companionship, allowing them to work together to conquer the obstacles they faced without any consequences yet.

They were both filled with deep relief when they excited the Trollshaws and found themselves gazing upon the road. Still, they held onto their wariness as they traveled – these were dark days and not all could be trusted. With the road beneath their feet, the pair were able to speed up their journey, covering greater distances quickly. Mythera's spirits had been dampened only a little by their troubles, and she was still quick to a song or to hum a tune. Her brave cheerfulness in such a grave hour bolstered her companion's spirits as well. Feldar no longer hesitated to add his rich baritone to her cheery mezzo-soprano, and they made quite the pair as they at last reached the ford across the Bruinen. Both were pleased by the good time they had made, as they made their way across the ford and then along the last leg of their journey until they at last entered the good city of Rivendell.

There were guards awaiting them at the mouth of the city, though it seemed the pair were in luck, for the lord of the realm was there also, seeing off several riders. The elven lord turned his attention to the two wanderers after the riders were gone. "And who might you be, to seek the shelter of Imladris?" His eyes observed them, and the brunette saw in his eyes the same age and sorrow she saw oft in her fathers – the burden of the crown, she knew.

"I am Mythera Zara, and my companion is Feldar Conmara. The one you call Gandalf the Grey sent for us." She introduced them each in turn, then waited for the elven lord's response.

His grey eyes flashed lightly at the name of the wandering wizard. "I am afraid Gandalf is not here." He said grimly as he gazed at them more, taking in their road worn appearance. "Come, and let us find you a room to stay and allow you to recover from your journey. If you are in need of the date, it is October 11th." The dark haired elf gestured for them to follow him into the beautiful city.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing other than my characters, all else belongs to their proper owners.  
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**Thank you all for reading my lovely story! And I thank my reviewers for their wonderful support! Now, in case any of you have any questions about my timeline and what not, allow me to explain. I have a full sized map of M.E., and am also referencing my books - it took the hobbits approximately a month to travel from the Shire to Rivendell. Now, I measured that distance, and found it was about the same as it would be if, for example, one set off from Ice Bay to the north. So, that's where my gypsies got dropped off, and I figured about a month of travel. Also, as to the dating - Glorfindel states that they have been looking for the hobbits for nine days - Frodo crosses the ford on the 20th, so the riders left on the 11th. The reason that the gypsies are there so early, is that I am stating that Gandalf sent them a letter months ahead of time, to anticipate travel difficulties, ect. (Though there are other reasons yet to be revealed as well. Can't make it too simple.) So, they arrive nearly two weeks before our beloved Ringbearer. **

**That is all I shall explain for now, I think, though I will answer any questions you have for me.**


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